Jaime
by SugarInMyTea
Summary: Jaime, after being healed, discovers something of value for the kingdom.


Jamie

Sauntering silently across the damp land, Jaime and Ser Ilyn walked, weary after their parry. The Lord Commander kept tripping every third step while the King's Justice strutted ever so slightly. His foot catching on a tree-root, almost invisible in the darkness of the ancient small forest, protruding from the leaf-blanketed ground, Jaime fell, cursing as he plummeted. Giving a tongue-less cackle as cold as cracking ice, the executioner stood back, leaning against one of the large white trees of the godswood, watching his fellow knight strain to rise from the sticky mud he had fallen in. Tossing a disapproving glare at his companion, Jaime struggled to his feet and brushed off his front side with his only hand. Finding the sword he had dropped when loosing his balance, Jaime picked it up and gave it a one handed shake to loosen any globs of stuck mud before he lifted it and set it to rest against his shoulder. Glancing at his comrade, the Lord Commander sighed and kept on walking, embarrassed but not truly disheartened. Quickening his pace at the sight of the fires from the campsite outside the successfully sieged Riverrun, Jaime smiled wearily, glad that the day was at its end and he would finally be able to rest and rejuvenate himself. After the complete beating he had received from Ilyn during their nightly practices, he was welcoming the cool night with open arms.

Crossing the threshold between peaceful godswood and stuffy campsite, Jaime and Ser Ilyn were immediately plunged into the pandemonium that the trees had somehow hidden from them. There were bodies moving everywhere, running to every tent, every corner of the cleared area and every which way. The air was hot and heavy, filled with the sweat a thousand men and the scent of their fear. Fires were raging in their dens of wood and coal; shouts were heard upon the gusts of the now hot, spark-filled wind. Men were calling, crying, screaming. Chaos was upon them.

Stopping, the two men stood. Ser Ilyn stared almost lazily at the teeming soldiers while Jaime gaped at them in utter confusion. He sighed, his plans of peaceful rest absolutely ruined by whatever mess had recently occurred and caused this uproar in reaction. Reaching out, the Lord Commander's crippled arm blocked the way of a stable boy who was running past, his arms full of quivers of arrows. Giving a slight shriek at both the fact that he had run into the arm of the greatest knight ever to walk and that it was the half-arm that ended strangely at the knight's mid forearm, the stable boy jumped back. A few arrows were jolted from their hold and fell to the ground.

"What's going on? What is all this ruckus about?" Jaime questioned angrily, ignoring the boy's embarrassment and fear.

"M-men... from the mountains!" The boy huffed, his feet still dancing, eager to hurry to his destination and drop off his load.

"The mountains...?" Jaime lowered his right arm. The boy, who gave a quickened and sloppy bow, ran off with haste. Looking towards the west, Jaime stared at the mountains he couldn't see for the trees were interfering with the view. Heaving another sigh, Jaime marched to his tent in a determined fashion, eager put on his pearly white armour that signified his skill and rank as a knight.

Ser Ilyn stood by the trees, watching the man he had just beaten in play-fighting walk away with what little dignity he had left. Smirking at the thought of Jaime actually beating someone, the tongue-less executioner swayed through the crowd, carelessly, his sword dragging along the ground next to him.

His screams filled the castle. Echoing off the stone walls, reaching every corner with their lithe airy bodies, flowing through rooms, moving with no limitations, only to bounce back to the Lord Commander who laid in the master bed, bloody and weak. As a man twitches and writhes in bed, covers slipping from his body, fingers slick with sweat, screaming out his fear and hurt while panting, trying to keep his breath and his sanity while in the midst of a nightmare, so Jaime writhed in pain.

Every maester within the vicinity had come to see him. None could give any sort of diagnostic. The cut had been administered to his chest. That was made obvious by the bubbling pus that spouted from its mouth and the strange dark indigo veins that were leading from it. But, what had troubled the maesters was how the right side of his neck, preciously his jugular, was turning the same deep violet. How had the infection, if that was what it was, decided to rest and infest within Jaime's neck if it was originally from his chest? One maester suggested it was a poison, but he did not know which one or if there was any possibility of getting an antidote. Another said he was very sure it was an infection caused by a bit of the weapon chipping off and becoming embedded inside of the Lord Commander's chest. But, that didn't explain what was going on with his neck. Yet another maester proposed the weapons had been rubbed in Valerian dust that would kill the soldiers with its dark magic properties. The other three maesters who saw Jaime couldn't come up with any explanation for his symptoms.

"My poor boy..." Jaime's aunt Genna had been with him for two nights now as whatever was inside him took over.

"I-it's alright, dear aunt..." Jaime panted, sweaty and shivering. "This i-isn't such a bad way to... to die." He tried to smile but his pain was so great that he just grimaced and clenched his eyes shut. Genna sighed and stroked her nephew's soft, dirty golden locks with a large hand. She too closed her eyes, in silence and early mourning.

The door burst open.

"Ser! Ser! We have another maester for you!" It was Peck. His cheeks were rosy and his chest rose and fell as he panted from running through the castle in his glee. "Some soldiers found one wandering about on the River Road. He says he's really good and that he has supplies and everything! He says he can help you!" The young man grinned happily, desperate to not have his master die.

"Josmyn Peckledon! Leave here at once!" Genna Frey stood and scolded her nephew's squire. "Jaime has seen enough maesters in the past three days to awaken the first Aeron! Let the man rest in peace! I shan't have him die in the arms of one of those twiggy buffoons!"

"B-but, m'lady! He... he... he'll be the seventh maester to see him! It's luck, I tell you! This time he'll really get better!"

"If are one to believe in the luck of the gods, I have no other choice than to think of you as a fool." Genna pursed her lips at the small boy. "Now get out of my sight and let my nephew die in serenity!"

"Aunt... it is fine. Let him stay. I do not mind another maester," Jaime wheezed from the bed.

"But, Jaime..."

"Aunt, it is my body. I want to have the maester l-look at me..." He gave as good a commanding expression as possible before the pain wiped his face back to the painful one he'd been wearing for the past three days. Genna gave him a disapproving pout and shrugged. "If that is your wish..."

"I appreciate it..." a soft tone voiced from the doorway. There stood a beautiful man, clothed in a gentle grey robes that hung just right over his supple body showing off his thin frame and petite limbs. Off his shoulder hung a simple leather bag and off his neck hung his Maester Chain, totally complete with every link one could imagine. Upon his feet were worn grey slippers that looked to old to still be of use, especially in the rainy autumn. A gorgeous, innocent smile danced along his pale lips and his eyes shone with the brightness of moonlight. His hands were thin, his fingers long and skilled. He had long, shiny deep chestnut hair that seemed to glimmer with every movement.

Giving a sweet smile, the maester entered the room with light feet, his thin hips swaying ever so slightly. Kneeling next to Jaime, he reached out a fluid hand and stroked the Lord Commander's soft cheek.

"A-are you... a god?" Jaime choked out, his pain clouding his mind. Laughing like an angel, the maester shook his head, his hair wavering with motion.

"No, my Lord... I am but a simple, humble maester. I come here to heal the sick and teach the smart of mind and heart. They call me Maester Quellion. Do not worry, my Lord, I will cure you of all that ales you."

"I-it's... Ser... I am not Lord, divine maester... I am a knight... of the K-Kingsguard... here to... oversee... the siege of..." Jaime convulsed, his neck bulging as he fought to control himself.

"Of course... Ser Jaime..." Quellion whispered, brushing back some of Jaime's long hair. He took a cold finger and gently ran it down the knight's face and chest to the discoloured cut that was the origin of Jaime's problems. He grinned. "Simple... this is the Strangler's Blood. I'm sure you've heard of the fast acting poison The Strangler... am I correct?" Jaime nodded, his teeth clenched. "Good, well, this is a bit similar... just different. Instead of closing off the windpipe and suffocation the victim, Strangler's Blood infects the blood. It infests itself into the neck, like so." he tapped the strange purple on Jaime's neck. "From there, it gives off a substance that destroys the blood, eventually killing you. A very slow and painful death because the process of destroying all the blood and replacing it with the poison takes quite a while. Now, I know exactly how to help you."

"Y-you do...?" Jaime was quite astonished, the maester had diagnosed him in seconds without even asking him any questions.

"Yes." Quellion smiled that angelically divine smile once again.

"Yes!" Peck jumped for joy. "I _knew_ it!"

"Just stay still, Ser Jaime. This will hurt. Here, bite on this." And, in the midst of Peck's shouts of happiness, Quellion's hand glowed an eerie blue and he pulled at Jaime's neck, yanking out his jugular in a simple fluid motion.

"Well, that went well!" Quellion grinned, his face covered in flecks of blood and purple globs of poison. Jaime looked at him, his neck throbbing crazily, but otherwise completely fine.

"W-what did you do!?" Jaime stuttered out of confusion and slight fear. Genna was cowering in a corner, her eyes wide and frightful while Peck stood by the window, mouth agape and eyes horrified.

"I healed you!" Quellion smiled and giggled like a child. "You see, I stretched your vein so that I could see it out of your neck, then I removed the stones of poison that had formed there by means of the poison originally from administered at your chest. Then, I inserted a clementine seed within a membrane that will stay there in your neck and destroy any more of the poison that goes by it. Oh, and the seeds only work if place into your blood stream... your digestive acids within your stomach destroy the other parts of the seed that are needed to kill the poison." Jaime stared for a second before responding.

"How did you take my vein out of my neck without killing me...?" He questioned warily.

"Oh!" Quellion laughed, shaking his head. "Silly me, I should have known this type of work is unknown to you! It was magic!" Silence spread across the room.

"Magic?" Peck choked out, the words almost sticking in his throat.

"Magic?" Genna whispered, unbelieving.

"Magic?" Jaime asked, confused.

"Magic!" Quellion exclaimed happily.

"You can perform magic...?" Jaime asked, a small miniature smile starting to form on his mouth.

"Yes..." Quellion answered slowly. "I just did, my Lord."

"It's Ser... I'm a knight..." Jaime retorted, automatically. "Then... stay. I know exactly how you can help me." Quellion's smile fell.

"I... I do not understand, my Lord... I just did help you... You're cured!"

"It's Ser! And I know... this help doesn't have to do with my body... this is... the war." Jaime grinned and jumped out of bed. Grabbing the thin maester by the shoulders, Jaime shook the man's skinny frame and asked hurriedly, "Quellion! Can you manipulate objects and people? Like, play with their minds...? Force them to forget things or force them to change their opinions on certain aspects?"

"Well... certainly... but..."

"Come with me, then, Quellion! Come with me back to King's Landing! Help me win this war. I know you can. With magic, you can help me win!"

"Ser Jaime... I..." Quellion sighed, about to refuse but... he paused. As if he had just remembered an important fact he had forgotten, Quellion smiled like his heart skipped a beat.

"Of course, Ser Jaime! Of course I'll go with you to King's Landing," Quellion voiced, a strange warmth and longing manifested in his voiced. Jaime gave a jubilant grin.

"Perfect."


End file.
